I did not want to be here.
And that was no one’s fault but my own.
I knew my power was growing.
Unstable.
Unrefined.
A force that surged without warning, pulling at the world around me like gravity itself had grown impatient.
Without control, it was not a gift.
It was a liability.
Dangerous.
Unpredictable.
A curse disguised as destiny.
And the Guard of Máni was only as strong as its weakest link.
I refused to be that weakness.
Which was why I was here.
At Runevald.
Among Witches, Monsters, and things far older than either—learning to contain what should already have been mine to command.
But there was another truth.
One I did not speak aloud.
One I did not allow myself to consider for longer than a passing thought.
My power would not fully stabilize until I completed the bond.
The one thing I had no desire to find.
My mate.
A cosmic necessity, they called it.
A balancing force.
A tether.
I called it something else.
A trap.
Because power like mine did not simply exist.
It required anchor.
And that anchor came in the form of another.
